#calandra

        “It’s common,” Ryu had told him. Iarere had tried to convince himself that the annoyance in her tone was imagined. “You’ll get over it once you’re powerful enough.”

        “You got them too?” Iarere had asked.

        “A long time ago,” Ryu had replied. And that had been the end of that conversation.

        Now, like then, Iarere shook the pain away. Now, like then, he had more important things to focus on. Especially since he could now hear Pythios moving around just outside.

        He gathered himself quickly enough, strapping his staff to his back as he made his way out of the small corner room Pythios and Chalah had been kind enough to let he and Ryu use. He knew if he turned his head to the left, he would see Chalah’s slumbering form, either gigantic or truly tiny, depending on whether he’d chosen his original or shifted form to sleep in that night. On the other hand, he could see Pythios’ slim shoulders directly in front of him.

        Pythios, unlike Chalah and Ryu, could easily look him in the eye when they were in their shifted forms. Iarere was unsure if he would consider either of Pythios or himself wildly tall in their shifted forms, but a slightly sour Chalah and Ryu had informed them that they definitely would.

        Now Pythios was leaning over the cache of herbs he kept, while Calandra slept on in one of his clinic's cots.

        Through his time as a healer, Iarere had been through many disappointing experiences. Patients who never fully recovered. Patients who died. And yet, Calandra had topped all of them in terms of sheer frustration. It had, Iarere was sure, something to do with the fact of her power. Her mind, her dreamscapes, and the spirits that hovered around and in it were like a third sun beaming down on him whenever he sunk into the dream world. It was impossible to ignore and so was she.

        “Eldan will be here soon,” Pythios said, without taking his eyes off his work. It was what he said everyday, as if Iarere wasn’t familiar with Eldan’s daily ritual by now. In fact, he was as aware of it as he was of Pythios’ next question. “Is Ryu here?”

        Iarere didn’t bother to hide his sigh. Eldan had taken an immense disliking to Ryu quite quickly. It was not undeservedly, though. Ryu had long seemed to harbor a distaste for Calandra. She refused to even get close to her and frequently eyed her as if she were a hydra. It took only moments of Eldan watching her do so to decide he disliked her and only a few moments after that for Ryu to decide that Eldan’s dislike of her amused her to no end. So, occasionally, when Ryu did feel like social situations were worth stomaching, she would loom in the corner of the room to quietly antagonize Eldan as much as possible.

        “She’s not,” Iarere said. “I don’t know where she went.”

        “You’re not worried, are you?” Pythios asked, his large earrings jingling as he turned around.

        “No,” Iarere said, and from the look on Pythios’ face, he could hear Iarere’s lie as easily as Iarere could taste in on his tongue.

        Eldan’s footsteps echoed outside the clinic and Iarere slid his staff from his shoulders and worried the worn wood under his hands as he moved quickly over to Calandra’s side. Eldan glanced suspiciously around the room before he entered slowly and hurried to Calandra’s side.

        “She’s the same,” Pythios said

Eldan’s face twisted into an ugly expression of pain, anger, and desperation and Iarere looked away. “She hasn’t done anything?”

“No,” Pythios said gently. “Iarere believes her mind was overloaded with Spirit power while she was performing the necessary ritual.” Iarere tried to ignore the glare Eldan shot him. “She’s physically healthy and seemingly stable. This coma is likely something her brain cooked up to allow her to rest while it deals with all the extra energy.”

“You think,” Eldan added on, under his breath. Pythios ignored him. Eldan’s lip curled at Pythios’ silence and he kicked the chair out so it made a piercing scrapping sound against the floor. He sat in it with a loud thump and Iarere couldn’t help but marvel at how childish Eldan looked as he then crossed his arms high up on his chest.

Pythios had started to wander off about half way through Eldan’s display. Iarere had never seen Pythios roll his eyes before, but he was entirely sure this was his way of doing so. Iarere pulled his gaze off the sulking Eldan and hurried after Pythios.

“He’s worried about her,” Pythios said softly when Iarere came to his side.

Iarere blinked. “I know.”

There was a beat of silence, and though Pythios didn’t look at him, he did cock his head ever so slightly as he asked, “how would you feel if it were Ryu?”

Iarere stared at him. He knew Pythios would never be intentially cruel. It simply wasn’t in his heart. He wouldn’t have asked that if he thought thinking about it would truly pain him. And, so, he must think it might not.

Did it? It shouldn’t. Ryu was the anthesis to what Iarere stood for. He was a healer. She was a murderer and a monster and worse. And she had never been particularly nice to him besides.

And yet his chest ached at the very thought.

Iarere could feel Pythios’ gaze on the side of his face now. The other did not speak again, but he made a humming noise, low and in the back of his throat. Iarere couldn’t tell what it meant, but it still made tears burn in the corners of his eyes.

And it hurt enough that Iarere failed to realize his headache had only become worse.